Certificate 12a, 110 mins, **
Owen Wilson's stock in trade as the annoying but ultimately good hearted charmer wears tiresomely thin here.
A sort of one man Wedding Crashers, Wilson is the workshy Dupree who, after being best man for childhood best buddy Carl (Matt Dillon), inveigles an invitation to move in to the domestic nest while he, supposedly, looks for a job and other digs.
Carl's bride, Molly (Kate Hudson), isn't thrilled at the prospect, even less so when Dupree starts slobbing around, sleeping nude, odorously blocking the toilet, and encouraging hubby to have the boys over to watch football while she's out working.
Things come to something of a head when, re-enacting last Tango In Paris with one of Molly's friends, he almost burns down the house. Even Carl agrees Dupree should leave. However, the screenplay now contrives to have Molly undergo a change of heart while Dupree turns over a new leaf, helping round the house, whipping up gourmet meals and generally showing a sensitive feminine side.
Meanwhile, under pressure from his smarmy property developer tycoon boss, who also happens to be Molly's possessive father (Michael Douglas) who's deliberately trying to undermine and emasculate his son-in-law, Carl starts to crack and misreads the relationship, throwing marriage and career into a tailspin.
Fudging the possibilities in developing the screenplay's hints at Dupree's sexuality, the film blunders through a series of increasingly unfunny scenes that play out a sour romcom where men are immature little boys absorbed with power games and porn and women are nagging killjoys determined to keep their men on a tight leash.
Constrained by playing foils to Wilson, neither Hudson nor Dillon rise to the comedic occasion while, given nothing to spark off, he in turn struggles to find any real spark or charm.
With a bemused and distracted Douglas left to fend for himself, three's not just a crowd it's also the number of laughs you might just be lucky enough to find.
